Underwater
by ElegantGhost
Summary: Five times Bones bathed Kirk and one time he got him dirty. A friendship/bromance fic.
1. Acquaintances

_Disclaimer: not mine and all that._

* * *

"Christ, kid." Bones knelt by Jim in an off-campus alley. The kid was on his hands and knees, puking his guts out. He was fairly quiet about it, only gagging every few splashes.

The offending bar was only yards away. Fluorescent lights flashed from the outside sign, casting the two of them in a red glow. Each flicker was accompanied by a buzzing sound.

Bones distantly wondered how many other patrons had expelled warm, acidic beer from their guts in this very alley. He shifted slightly, trying not to touch anything. The doctor in him grimaced. With the smell of stale urine and fresh vomit permeating the air, the stuffy bar was looking pretty good. There was also a stain on the far wall that looked suspiciously like semen. Bones couldn't stop glancing at it.

Jim was oblivious and past the point of caring about his environment. Poor kid probably didn't even remember where he was.

Patting his back in an awkward gesture of comfort, Bones reflected that although they'd only met last week on the shuttle, Jim had grown on him rather quickly. Maybe it was because the kid had obviously been just as down on his luck. Or maybe it was because they'd both enlisted at the last minute and were thrown together as roommates. Whatever the reason, Bones felt a sense of protectiveness toward this moron cadet hell bent on self-destruction.

An exhausted panting interrupted his thoughts. Jim made a move to stand, though he ended up falling against and clawing his way up the alley wall. For a moment, he just leaned there, gulping down the crisp autumn air.

"I hate to add insult to injury, kid," Bones said, rising to his feet. "But your leather jacket may never be clean again."

Jim bent his head with a chuckle, looking down long enough to take in the splatters of blood, beer, and various other fluids. He shrugged and responded with a slurred, "Hazard of having fun."

"Is that what you call a fight?"

"Hey, I won," Jim's eyebrows rose defensively. "This isn't even my blood. You should see me on a bad night."

"Maybe I will someday, idiot." Bones moved forward to grab an arm. "It was only a punch to the stomach that forced me to drag you into this alley before you got us banned from the bar. If one punch takes you down, I'd hate to see you on the receiving end of a-"

At that moment, Jim decided to fall on his face. The kid didn't pitch forward. He simply crumpled to the ground. One second he was standing – the next, he was curled up in a puddle. A puddle of his own… previously ingested beer.

"Damn it," Bones muttered. He knelt by the kid (who looked more like a kid now that he was passed out) and shook his shoulder. There was no response. Bones didn't really expect one at this stage in the game. Even with Jim's stomach contents on the ground beneath him, he'd been tossing back shots like it was his last night on earth. Which wouldn't be for a while yet, as they'd only just started classes.

No amount of grumbling could make Jim wake up. But damn it if Bones didn't try. He finally sighed and hoisted a limp arm around his shoulders.

Joints popped as he forced himself to stand. Supporting the extra weight made him pant with effort and promptly regret it.

Jim _reeked_. He was also soaked to the skin, at least where his leather jacket hadn't protected him.

The kid lolled his head against Bones' shoulder and tried to crack a smile. Bones was pretty sure his own lips curled in disgust.

"You need a bath."

"I'm more of a shower kinda guy."

How they managed to make it into a taxi and up the dorm stairs, Bones would never know. His back was yelling his age with every step. It made him feel utterly ridiculous for going out to a _bar_, of all places. He was a doctor, damn it. He wasn't in college anymore. Even when he was, he'd always end up the goddamn babysitter for those who couldn't hold their liquor.

Some things never changed.

The second they crossed the threshold, Jim greeted their empty room with a, "Lucy, I'm hoooommee!"

Interesting.

Bones kicked the door shut behind them and flicked on the lights to reveal two parallel beds. Off to the left, and most important at the moment, was a bathroom door. Most dorm rooms weren't equipped with a private bathroom, but since he was training to be a medical officer and the med dorms were full, he'd been put up in one of the nicer cadet dorms with Jim. Whatever. Anything beat living with his ex-wife.

"Try not to touch anything," Bones muttered, dragging Jim toward the bathroom. He'd be damned if their room smelled like vomit for the next week. There was enough of that stench at the hospital.

The kid mumbled something incomprehensible in response, followed by a laugh that suggested he'd made a dirty joke.

There was a groan of protest in Bones' ear when he flicked on the bathroom lights. Could hardly blame him. The lights reflected off the white tile in a way that rendered eyelids virtually useless.

"You're due for a bath. Or shower," Bones gruffly ordered. "Whatever you call it, you don't get to collapse in your own vomit and then crawl into bed."

He sat the kid on the edge of the tub, keeping a hand on his shoulder so he wouldn't topple over and crack his head. It seemed like something Jim would do, given the chance. No sense of coordination or balance, this one.

A sharp pull of the spout got the water running. Nice and hot too. Bones blinked hard, suddenly mindful of the time and how nice it would be to crawl into his own soft, awaiting bed. Steam rose from the bath and it seemed to be lulling Jim to sleep.

"Wake up." Bones gave the kid's shoulder a rough shake.

"Hey," was the slurred response. "Keep it down, will you?"

"Oh, no. If I need to stay awake for this, so do you. Strip and get in the tub."

"Huh?"

Bones took a deep breath to keep his patience in check and tried to keep his words simple. "You. Stink. Bath." He peeled off Jim's leather jacket and tossed it into the corner, where it landed with a wet _smack_.

Then he lifted the hem of Jim's shirt before the kid could be even more of a pain in the ass. It was slightly concerning how disoriented he was, but drunks weren't known for their speed, reasoning, or logic. Tapping into what remained of his bedside manner, Bones tried to treat the kid like a patient with a brain injury. Which probably wasn't too far from the truth.

A yawn of epic proportions escaped as Jim unbuttoned his own pants. He said something, but Bones didn't speak Yawn. _Complaint, complaint, complaint _was all he heard.

The mirror had steamed up by the time the tub was full. Bones turned off the water and waited for the kid to finish undressing, casually averting his gaze. He'd seen it all as a doctor, but it was different when "some naked guy" was also your roommate.

Yeah. Things could get awkward real damn fast.

There were a series of _plop_s when Jim settled himself into the bath water and a light _tap _when his head leaned against the tile.

Bones knew the kid would fall asleep. It was unavoidable. Take a muscle relaxant like alcohol and mix it with soothing hot water, and voila: cooperative roommate.

Hey, it was better than the alternative. Belligerent drunks were impossible. Too often than not, Bones found that he didn't have the patience for them. Voila: unconscious drunk and an empty hypo in the doctor's hand.

This was natural _and _convenient.

Bones rolled up his sleeves. Reaching for a washcloth with a half-hearted glance of annoyance, he wet it and gently massaged it with a bar of soap to work up a lather. A fresh scent drifted into the air. It was a welcome respite from the sour smells clinging to Jim's clothes where they were heaped in the corner.

He replaced the bar of soap in its holder and glanced up to make sure the kid still had his head above the water. His brow was furrowed, lips moving without sound. Whatever he was dreaming about wasn't pleasant.

Ghosting his washcloth-covered hand over Jim's body was a fairly intimate process, but Bones tried to remain professional and distant. Part of him didn't understand why, while the other half understood perfectly. He was bathing his roommate and that was all there was to it. No amount of _thought_ restraint would change that. On the other hand, it really wasn't his place to be doing this. They hadn't known one another long enough for it to even _begin _to be his place, doctor or no doctor. And somehow it seemed that a bit of professionalism would make up for that.

Not that Jim seemed to mind. He was still out cold when the water was more warm than hot, and foggy with soap.

Bones pulled the tub's plug and watched the water slowly recede around Jim's rib cage. He'd taken some powerful blows for sure, but nothing severely damaging. Those bruises should fade in a few days. Hell, maybe they would remind him to be more careful next time.

Rising to his feet and grabbing a towel, Bones stood over the prone form of his roommate and considered how to proceed. Hmmm. He started simply, drying Jim's front while he was still in the tub. Then he laid the towel on the bathroom floor and got behind Jim as much as possible, his rear on the lip of the tub. If he leaned just so, he could slip his arms behind and under the kid's shoulders. And _heave_.

Bones didn't take a breath until Jim was safely laying on the towel. Damn, the man was heavier than he looked.

The hard part was over. From here, it was only a matter of sitting Jim up, drying his back, and letting everything else take care of itself.

"There," Bones mumbled with satisfaction as he dragged Jim to his bed. "You're a walking ad for Axe."

No response. But the frown lines on the kid's face seemed to have melted away.

Raising an eyebrow as he hauled him onto the mattress, Bones thought it was almost a shame to grace the wrinkled, unkempt sheets with the squeaky clean form of his roommate. He walked to the dresser and dug out some sweats to save him some dignity in the morning. It only took two swift pulls before the gray sweatpants were securely on Jim's hips. One toss of the covers later, he was safely tucked into bed.

If Bones didn't know better, he would've guessed they hadn't gone out at all. Jim had a habit of collapsing half on top of the covers after a night out. Pretty much every night thus far. Now, he looked almost normal. How you'd expect a kid to fall asleep.

Bones rubbed his eyes before stripping down to his boxers and climbing into bed. The faint scent of _bar _still clung to him, but he could shower in the morning.

He wondered if Jim would remember anything. He wondered if he should bag and dump the pile of beer-stained clothing and claim to have no _idea_ why Jim was dressed only in sweatpants. He wondered if a tricorder reading was necessary. Finally, he wondered why he was still thinking about this.

It was late. Too late to do anything but sleep.

"Oh," he mumbled, leaning back into his pillow. "The hell with it."


	2. Roommates

_Disclaimer: Star Trek: 2009 isn't mine and never will be. Unfortunately._

* * *

It was just a training simulation. Just a goddamned training simulation.

Yet as the phaser fire rained, Bones couldn't deny the adrenaline pumping through his veins. It was nearly impossible to keep his mind on the objective at hand when the simulation around him resembled a nighttime war zone. Comrades were nothing more than running shadows. Random faces and silhouettes were lit up by the glow of phaser fire before they were cast in darkness again.

His boots pounded against the dirt as he ran for cover. The phaser fire was growing closer. Set to stun, it wasn't meant to cause permanent damage. But the doctor in him automatically saw danger where the simulation creators had not. It was in the rock a stunned cadet hit their head on as they fell. It was in the dust kicked into a stunned windpipe by an unobservant passerby. It was in one bad fall, one misjudged step…

An explosion near Bones threw him off balance. He hit the dirt like they'd been trained to do, even with panicked shouts for help coming from every direction. He couldn't save anyone if he couldn't save himself first.

Objective: make it safely back to the ship. There was no _real _ship of course. The so-called hanger threshold simply marked the boundary of the simulation. Pass through it and find yourself under fluorescent lights in a training facility.

Bones couldn't see the marked trail from his position on the ground. There was dirt in his eyes, and probably all over his face too. Muscles that he didn't know he had ached and throbbed. Sweat beaded his upper lip.

Well. He couldn't stay on the ground forever.

Steeling himself against the beam of a phaser, he leapt to his feet and began sprinting in the general direction of the ship. Lungs burning, eyes watering from the rising cloud of ash, he made it perhaps twenty yards before someone tackled him.

Talk about whiplash.

Bones grunted in pain as they hit the dirt, the weight on top of him shifting. A voice yelled into his ear, "Stay down, Bones! Two seconds later and you would've been out of the game. Pay attention next time."

"Get off me," he snapped in response, ignoring the grateful realization that he wasn't stunned. He'd need to repeat the entire simulation if he failed, and getting stunned would _not _help his chances of passing.

Jim shifted to lay on his stomach beside him. The kid was _smiling_. Unbelievable. A simulated mission coming apart at the seams and he was enjoying himself.

"Are we having fun yet?" he shouted over a distant blast. "Don't worry about it. We just need to cross into the forest. The ship is beyond the river banks. We can pick up stragglers along the way. On my count. One…"

Damn, the kid talked fast.

"Two…"

They should think about this first. Really lay out their options.

"Three!"

Jim grabbed his shirt and hauled them to their feet. Then he led the way, weaving between boulders and brush. The forest wasn't too far, perhaps 100 meters, but visibility was decreasing and the intensity of the attack had increased. Where the hell was everyone?

"Are you sure this is the right way?" Bones yelled.

"Trust me!"

Having little choice in the matter, Bones was obliged to follow the kid at a breakneck pace. He stumbled a few times as the terrain grew less predictable. If he thought it was difficult to see anything on the battlefield, it became all but impossible once they entered the forest. He held both hands out in front of him to keep from running headlong into a tree.

His fingertips brushed Jim's cadet jacket several times. Tree branches whipped at his face and he growled in frustration. Who created this simulation? No danger his _ass_.

"Get down," Jim suddenly whispered over his shoulder, squatting just ahead. Bones tried to glimpse what made the kid so jumpy before he squatted as well, but there was nothing out of the ordinary.

"Look." The kid leaned back and pointed at something just ahead. "Stunned cadet, two o'clock."

Bones stomach dropped.

"Now, I ask you, Bones," Jim whispered calmly. "Why would a stunned cadet be this far from the war zone?"

It wasn't a question. Not really. And no sooner had he finished speaking before a deafening explosion preceded a disorienting flash of light.

Ambush.

"Go!" Bones yelled, shoving Jim in the general direction of the ship. Instead of going with the momentum, however, Jim dove sideways toward the stunned cadet. Rustling branches gave warning that the enemy was moving in fast.

Jim hauled the man over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. He was quick about it, but that might not be enough to save them. A brief delay was still a delay.

"Are you crazy?" Bones shouted. He let loose a string of curses as they began to run again. Alien voices were getting closer. A phaser fired behind them, both lighting their way and revealing their position.

Jim panted ahead, probably flying high as a kite on a fresh surge of adrenaline. The stunned cadet over his shoulders wasn't a large man, but he wasn't exactly a shrimp either. Bones was ready to whip out a tricorder the second they crossed the hanger threshold.

The ship wasn't far ahead. He could see it through the brush. Their only problem was finding the bridge to cross the river. There was no way they could they swim across in the dark.

"Keep moving," Bones barked. It was probably unnecessary, but it made him feel like he had control over the situation.

They followed the river banks for what felt like forever. Silhouettes of other cadets just ahead appeared to be crossing the bridge. Jim bee lined right for them, yelling, "We've got a man down over here!"

Two cadets stopped to help, running toward them. The others never looked back.

Nearby fire was much too close for comfort, beams hitting a tree mere yards away. Jim was stumbling under the weight of his burden, but the other cadets gently lifted the man from his shoulders. Their faces were full of fear and determination. When they finally had a secure hold on the stunned cadet, they marched across the bridge for the ship.

Bones grabbed Jim's arm to steady him. "Let's get the hell out of here. Can you run?"

Instead of wasting his breath with an answer, Jim forged ahead, his eyes glued to the ship. Bones was right beside him. Their boots thudded on the planks of the bridge, both of them panting with exhaustion. No amount of time in the gym could have prepared them for the adrenaline roller coaster that used the body's reserves too quickly.

There was alien shouting behind them.

The world slowed.

Bones ventured a glance behind them, horrified to see the glow of pointing phases. Then beams were flying. He threw himself to the side to avoid being hit, tackling Jim in the process. There was a grunt of surprise and pain in his ear before they hit the water. Icy river water closed over his head before he had time to draw a breath.

Shock drove the breath from him like a punch to the gut. He was tumbling in the depths of the river, unsure which way was up. The glow of flying beams should have guided him to the surface, but the water was too murky to see much of anything.

_Don't breathe. _

He went limp, hoping that natural forces would cause him to float. Wait for it, wait for it… _there_. He drifted to the left. Arms and legs flailing, he swam for the surface of the river.

Air. He needed air.

When he broke the surface, it was like being reborn. He gasped and sputtered, gulping down air. A relived, semi-hysterical laugh escaped when he realized the enemy was nowhere to be seen. The river banks were dark.

They made it. They-

Bones whipped his head around. "Kid!"

No answer.

_Shit. _

"Kid, can you hear me? Kid!"

Only the sound of water lapping against the banks answered him. Bones took a deep breath and dove under the water, his hands blindly clawing for a cadet jacket, skin, hair, anything. The river wasn't so deep that Jim would've sank beyond his reach.

His lungs burned by the time he came up for air. He dove again. And again. Medical alarm bells were going off in his head. Three minutes without air. Epinephrine in his bag. Stunned persons can't breathe by expanding their rib cages. The kid would know to wait. He would know-

Bones suddenly felt fabric beneath his fingertips. He reached further and closed his fists around it, dragging whatever it was to the surface of the river. One of his arms wrapped around Jim's waist.

The second they reached the surface, Bones nearly sank under the extra weight. His legs kicked harder, but it did little good. One of his hands shoved Jim's head against his shoulder so it wouldn't flop forward. He turned so that he was on his back and lead the way to the river banks. Limbs growing heavy, heart pounding something fierce, it was all he could do to keep from shouting curse after curse. No point in giving away their position.

His boots found mud as they neared the banks. The moment he could stand firm, he turned his attention to Jim. They had to get out of the water and back to the ship as quickly as possible. But _dead _overrode the diagnosis of _hypothermia _in his book.

"Kid," he whispered urgently, easily cradling a buoyant Jim in his arms. He felt for a pulse, his head hanging with relief when he found one. Thank God. Bones lowered his ear to the kid's nose and mouth. Respirations were faster than normal, but that was understandable, considering how shallow they were.

A wave of fury began to take hold of him as he carried Jim out of the water and up the river banks. Even the mud sucking at his boots wasn't enough to slow his pace. Someone was going to get an earful. They were going to listen to his medical opinion and they were going to mellow out the goddamn dangerous elements of the simulation.

He crossed the bridge without incident and marched through the ship's hanger.

Warmth replaced the cold air of the night. White light blinded him, and this time he allowed himself to curse. His clothes automatically dried, but Jim remained stunned in his arms, eyes closed, unmoving.

"Where's the damn infirmary?" he growled at the board of instructors. They sat in a line behind a long table, eyes glued to the monitors that compiled and organized the simulation data.

For how they didn't respond, they might have been statues. Useless.

He was about to repeat his question with a more colorful vocabulary when a blond cadet hurried toward him from a nearby corridor. "Over here," she ushered. "This way."

"Who the hell are you?" he gruffly asked, following her lead after a dirty glance at the instructors.

"Christine Chapel," she replied tersely. "Nurse."

They turned the corner. A makeshift triage had been set up just outside the entrance to the simulation. Good God. The lack of order. A triage center belonged where the casualties would be arriving, not where healthy men left. And there seemed to be little organization for the severity of each patient.

Muttering under his breath, Bones lowered the kid onto the last cot and promptly rolled up his sleeves. "If you check his vitals for me, I can see to the other patients."

Chapel looked unsure. "I can't authorize that, really, I'm only a student-"

"Look," he cut in, trying to keep his patience in check. "These cadets were injured during a supposedly _safe _training simulation, they're unorganized, and they aren't being tended to by a doctor. Either do your job and help me or get the hell out of the way."

He didn't wait for her response before he strode to the monitor above Jim's cot. His fingers danced across the screen, eyes flickering down to the kid's face. Of all the _idiotic_, foolhardy moves, Jim had rescued that stunned cadet before he could be captured and instantly fail the simulation. If they'd run directly for the ship, they never would have been caught in the line of phaser fire.

"You're a selfless moron," he informed him.

The monitor displayed vitals. Incredibly, there was no water in the lungs, no serious injuries, and nothing that required treatment. He'd be exhausted as hell, but a day of rest would fix that.

With a sigh of relief, Bones reluctantly admitted that he should see to the other cadets. The kid would be fine. They might need his help. But something in him didn't want to leave. He wanted to stay here, provide some comfort or something until he woke up.

"Doctor," Nurse Chapel called. "We may have a case of mild aspiration over here."

Bones felt his shoulders slump just a bit. Before he walked away, he gently squeezed the kid's arm and said something he'd never said before. Perhaps something with more meaning behind it than he'd originally intended.

"Damn it, Jim."

* * *

_Author's Note 02/07/13: _

_Where has my writing muse gone? Two things: One, I've moved on to the fandom Supernatural. Which is really awesome, even if the first six or seven episodes leave something to be desired. There are eight seasons and counting, people. Two, I'll be back to finish these Star Trek: 2009 fics when the second movie comes out this Spring. Inspiration reignite._

_Until then, if you love the bromance between Bones and Jim, I highly recommend exploring the one between brothers Sam and Dean. Supernatural is the second largest fandom under TV, making it ideal for an unending supply of hurt/comfort between bros. See you this Spring..._


End file.
